


Let Me Fly You To The Moon

by Anonymous



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Gift Giving, Introspection, M/M, Romance, Songfic, Yuletide, Yuletide 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: D'yer wanna be a spaceman and live in the sky?Noel has many romantic escapist fantasies, and Liam knows how to make one of them come true.
Relationships: Liam Gallagher/Noel Gallagher
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24
Collections: Anonymous, Yuletide 2019





	Let Me Fly You To The Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cerberusia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Let Me Fly You To The Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711723) by [Shoot1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoot1984/pseuds/Shoot1984)

I wrapped my arms round the rough tree branch and pulled with all my might till I got my heel hooked over the bark on the upper side of the limb. With much scrabbling and scraped skin I succeeded in hoisting myself into the lower branches of the tree and proceeded to climb up as quickly as I could manage. When I next looked down behind me I felt a bit dizzy at seeing the distance to the ground and gripped the limb in front of me too tightly, cutting a finger on the sharp bark. I swore and scowled and carried on up the tree until the branches got too thin for my weight, and then I wedged myself into a crotch of two limbs and breathed in the vegetable scent of the leaves all around me. 

I could see a good distance from my height, across the dark tops of brick houses, over hedges that normally blocked my view, and over the grassy hill that lead in the direction of home. I felt anxiety reaching out for me from that direction and I turned away and looked up into the sky instead. The sky had only a few clouds remaining from the morning's rainstorm and I could see the moon rising as the sun set, the white crescent pale in the remaining daylight.

I was still hurting from the beating I'd got off dad yesterday and I didn't want to go home. I could feel the bruises aching as the tree pressed into them, but I imagined myself far away, so far I could look back and see the earth beneath me as great, round, blue and white marble. I thought about what it would be like to live on the moon or in a spaceship, so incredibly distant from everything in this awful town with its miserable people who were always trying to drag me down with them. Teachers, always after me like sharks cos I didn't attend school. The other boys, always making everything a fucking contest so I could never relax for a minute. And me so-called dad, the ultimate waste of skin, turning home into Hell with his every breath.

To be free from all of them, free to do and say as I damn well pleased, was all I wanted. And in my spaceship, I could. I closed my eyes and imagined I was in the pilot's seat at liftoff, rising into the clouds at a thousand miles an hour, a great cloud trailing out behind me as I shot to freedom. I imagined the perfect solitude and quiet once my spacecraft had reached orbit, with no one at all to bother me, no one that could touch me, just the stars above and the clouds below.

Into my dream broke some familiar sounds from the other side of the hill and I sighed with dread and opened my eyes. I could just start to make out what the two of you were saying.

"Where do you think 'e is, Paul?"

"He's in that tree."

"'ow can you tell?"

"He's always there."

"I bet 'e's not."

"Oh yeah? 'ow much you bet?"

"20p."

"You're on."

The two of you approached my haven and stood by the trunk, looking up into the branches. I could only see parts of you through the thick leaves.

"Noel," Paul called out, "Mam says you've got to come home now and eat with us."

I stayed silent, hoping you would both go away and let me sleep in the tree. I knew better, but I still hoped.

"'e's not there, Paul! Pay up!" I heard you demand.

Well, I couldn't let _that_ stand unchallenged.

"Oi, Liam! You've lost 20p!" I called out.

You made a loud noise of frustration and stamped your foot. I smirked to myself with pleasure at how easy it was to upset you and decided maybe I would come down, if just to see your face as you lost your money.

Once I was on the ground, Paul insisted you pay up, and you dug dramatically into your pocket and extracted the coin, holding it out to Paul and then throwing it to the ground when he tried to take it. You ran off towards home as Paul and me laughed at you.

"I think he really likes to lose his money," Paul said smugly as he pocketed your coin. "'e's always making shit bets."

"He just thinks he's always right about everything. If he decided that the moon was gonna rise purple, 'e'd make a bet on it." We laughed again and moved off toward home. We found you kicking stones and clods of dirt in the vacant lot where all the kids in the neighbourhood liked to play. You didn't look up, but kept angrily sending dirt flying.

"Come on, Liam," Paul called out to you.

"No!" you shouted back.

"You're gonna get a hiding if you don't mind Mam," I added, catching your eye.

A look passed between us and you followed after me and Paul without another word. You'd seen me get beaten yesterday, and I knew it always terrified the shit out of you when dad would lay into me or Paul. Though it was usually me.

You jogged after us and fell into step beside me, your short legs taking big strides to keep up. We were silent for a bit.

"Why are you always in trees?" you asked me, as we rounded the corner for home.

"I like to make believe I'm a spaceman."

"In a tree?" You looked terribly confused. 

I rolled my eyes. "It's closer to the sky, innit."

You thought about that for a moment, then agreed. "Yeah, it is."

"That's some rotten logic if I ever heard any, Noelie G," Paul chipped in, and I stuck my tongue out at him. Paul went into the house ahead of the two of us, and you grabbed my hand tight and held on as we walked through the doorway together.

*

Falling in love with you wasn't sudden, but me realising I'd done it really fucking was.

I was on me bed, quietly playing guitar and working on writing a song, knowing I really should be sleeping so I wouldn't be tired at work in the morning, when you snuck into the house and into our bedroom without waking anyone, a skill you'd perfected of late.

You smelt of cigarettes and beer as you came past me to stand by the chest of drawers, and I couldn't pull my eyes away as you stripped off to only your underpants, tossing your clothes in the laundry basket. I started to realise how strange it was that your smooth skin and broadening shoulders had me mesmerised, but I quickly glued my eyes to my notebook when you turned round again to come to bed. The strangeness hit me full in the face when you stopped in front of me, practically glowing in my love-drenched vision, and I turned my face up to yours to kiss you goodnight, my lips feeling something like an electric charge as they pressed to yours (ok, just the fact that we were kissing each other goodnight at that age should have been weird enough to me, but at the time it just seemed normal).

The thrill that went through me at that moment came as a massive shock, but I did my best not to show it and mumbled a "good night, our kid" to you as our lips parted. I was so addled I didn't even hear your reply. I watched furtively as you slipped into your bed, every movement of every muscle in your body like a miracle to me, and at that moment I knew I was truly lost, and probably damned to Hell, if it existed. My heart was racing at the sight of you, and as you sprawled under the duvet, your chest half-exposed and one arm tucked up under the pillow, your face peaceful and angelically beautiful as you drifted swiftly to sleep, I cursed inwardly and made myself look away from the perfection of you on your bed and back at my notebook.

But as I re-read the lyrics I'd been working on, I saw that they were about you, too; that my heart had been focussed on you long before I knew about it.

__

> _And [it's all right](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4GZVxf0RK4)_  
_It's all right_  
_Who are you and me to say what's wrong and what's right?_  
_Do you still feel like me?_  
_Sit down here and we shall see_  
_We can talk and find common ground_  
_We can just forget about feeling down_  
_We can just forget about life in this town_

There was only one part of life in this town that brought me joy, besides me guitar. And I knew now I had to bring it with me when I escaped.

*

Your skills at sneaking continued to prove useful, even after we'd escaped Manchester. Somehow, none of our bandmates ever caught you on your way to my hotel room. They did catch me a few times on my way to yours, but I could always blag my way out of it.

You'd arrived around midnight tonight, while the others were still getting sloshed in the bar downstairs. We shared a spliff and lay down together. I stared out the window at the moon.

"What you thinkin'?" you murmured to me. 

I turned my head to look at you. "I was just wishing I could be an astronaut."

You gave me a funny look. "You're a weird fucker, you are."

I just grimaced at you and rolled over in the hotel bed so you couldn't see my face. I wanted to tell you why I wished it, but I knew you'd just take the piss, so I didn't. If I were an astronaut I could take you with me into space and we could do whatever we wanted and be exactly who we are and no one would know and no one would care. I could write songs with your name in them and sing them all day long at the top of my lungs and no one would be there to judge it. You could kiss me whenever you wanted to and I wouldn't have to dodge it in case someone was watching. I could worship you with my eyes without needing to wear sunglasses, and you could even walk around naked if I asked you to. I could love you till the cows came home, instead of till our girlfriends did. In space we could be free. 

I felt you wrap an arm around me, your warm skin heating up my back. "I wish I could be a sailor," you said, unexpectedly.

"Well, I'm not the only weird one in this bed," I remarked.

"We should get a boat, Noelie."

"What for?"

"We could go sailing. Just us. None o' them fucking paparazzi 'anging about, no girlfriends, no fans, no nothin'. Alone."

Maybe you did understand what I was on about. I turned round in your arms and looked at you. "We'd 'ave to learn how to sail. Like really, or we'd die."

"But we could get one?" You looked eager.

"Eh, yeah, last I checked I could buy a fucking private jet with me black card, but that's not--"

"It's gotta 'ave a bedroom," you interrupted, then paused for a moment to think. "And a bar."

I laughed. "Is that all you think about?" I teased. "Sex and alcohol?"

"Mainly sex," you replied, and shut me up by giving me a slow, soft love bite on my neck. You never leave a mark, though I know you wish you could, and I wish you could, too. No, hang on, that's not true. You did leave a mark once, while we were on tour, and I had to wear fucking roll-necks for a week to hide it from everyone. Always so many eyes, watching.

Maybe we _could_ get a boat. It couldn't be _that_ hard to learn how to sail. Your kisses soon moved down my body and my thoughts on sailing were put on hold for the rest of the night.

The next morning, alone in my bed with Bonehead still snoring in his across the room, I pulled out my old notebook and the old lyrics in it and I finished them off, writing the words as a note to myself, this time.

> _The town where we're living has made you a man_  
_And all of your dreams are washed away in the sand_  
_It's funny how your dreams change as you're growing old_  
_You don't wanna be no spaceman, you just want the gold_  
_All the dream-stealers are lying in wait_  
_But if you want to be a spaceman, it's still not too late_

*

You rushed up on me from behind and squeezed me in a tight hug, planting a swift kiss on the side of my face. I stifled a laugh and tried to break free of your grip, but you held tight. 

"Writing a song, our kid," you announced, clearly dying for me to ask to hear it.

"Oh, yeh? You think it'll make the cut onto the album, then?" I was only joking, but you always take this quite seriously.

"Reckon it will, yeh," you replied confidently and nuzzled me behind the ear.

"If you think buttering me up is going to make me put a crap song on our album, think again, lad," I warned, smiling, as you planted warm kisses behind my ear.

"It ain't crap," you murmured between kisses, and added mischievously, "It's better than some o' yours, big mouth."

"Big mouth? Me? Really, now--" I had a piss-take all prepared for this moment, but we heard some of our bandmates approaching the open door to the rehearsal room and had to quickly separate and try to look normal. Alan and Gem followed their voices into the room and greeted us where we stood by the rack of guitars. Andy trailed in a minute after the other two, guitar case in hand.

We were still getting settled into the new band lineup, with Gem and Andy, who we knew from the touring circuit over the years. Great blokes, but I wasn't sure yet how much they'd be willing to overlook, so we were trying to be cautious rather than scare them away immediately. They'd get used to us in time.

“Oi, lads, our kid's got a song for the album,” I announced to everyone. “Who wants to hear it?” 

You fetched your acoustic guitar and sat on a stool to play your song for us. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but a perfect pop love ballad was not it.

> _Talkin' to the [songbird](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KJgBkreAuw) yesterday_  
_Flew me to a place not far away_  
_She's a little pilot in my mind_  
_Singing songs of love to pass the time_  
_Gonna write a song so she can see_  
_Give her all the love she gives to me_  
_Talk of better days that have yet to come_  
_Never felt this love from anyone_  
_She's not anyone_  
_She's not anyone_  
_She's not anyone_

You looked up when you were done and said, “What you think?” to the room in general. Amongst all the congratulations, I was a little bit gobsmacked you'd written me a love song. I wished I could jump on you and kiss you, but I said as calmly as I could, “Well, that's our next single.”

You looked suspicious. “You takin' the piss?” 

I shook my head. “No, that's a Side A, if I ever 'eard one.” It took agreement from the rest of the lads for you to believe me, but when you did you shot me a glance that's burned in my memory to this day. Our lovemaking that night at the B&B may have been just a little too loud, as Andy was giving us haunted looks the next afternoon over breakfast, but we haven't scared him away yet. He sees in us what we see in each other, I think. 

*

We were fresh on tour and loving it. It's always the best time for us at the beginning of a tour, when we can have each other to ourselves, or at least more so than at any other time. After our gig in Italy, we had several days off, and we hired a private yacht and ditched the rest of the band to spend a dirty overnighter together on the Mediterranean sea. The captain brought his male lover along, and they agreed to hear nothing, see nothing, and keep to themselves, as would we. It's amazing what money can buy.

Speeding away from shore, away from the filthy mass of humanity and overcrowded streets, with the sea breeze in my hair was the most free I've ever felt. You were next to me on the prow, the wind and cold droplets hitting your face. We kept glancing back at the land until it was a dark haze on the horizon, and when you couldn't see the rest of the world for the endless slapping waves and bright, open sky, you wrapped yourself around me and hardly let go for the next twenty-four hours.

We stumbled below decks together and made good use of our cabin and the little gifts the captain and his fella had kindly left for us. Later that night we had it off on the deck of the yacht under the Milky Way, barely able to see each other as shadows under the sliver of moon, but feeling each touch like a magic fire under the skin. Spending an entire night together, uninterrupted, is truly the most special gift for us, and one of the rarest, so we spent most of the next morning lounging all over each other in the silk sheets of the bed we shared, eating fruit, getting drunk, and teasing each other mercilessly with both words and hot lips.

You dragged me above deck at midday to get some fresh air and so you could go for a swim.

“Aw, c'mon, our kid, I won't let you drown.” 

You were trying to get me into the ocean with you. Fat chance. I don't swim. “I'm going to watch you get eaten by sharks from right here on this lovely chair. So quit asking.”

You shrugged, shucked off your underpants and t-shirt and jumped naked off the side of the boat, making my heart leap into my throat until I saw your wet head emerge above the waves once more, grinning at me like you were ten and had just shoplifted a candy bar. You floated on your back and I took pictures of you in my imagination, wishing I could use a real camera. I have an entire photo album of you stored away in my head, every gorgeous image I could never let anyone see.

Our hosts left us a very nice cold lunch outside our cabin, which was perfect, since you came out of the water about as hungry as a shark and ate most of what was left for us before swallowing _me_ down for dessert.

When we heard the anchor being drawn up late in the afternoon, we emerged into the sunlight once again and sat at the stern of the yacht this time, to say goodbye to the sea, our sanctuary. I could almost have cried, but you kept me laughing all the way back to shore.

*

My memories of you are usually the good ones. But if I was being more realistic I'd have many memories of the bad times, as well. Not fights, but all the times we've been pulled away from each other because of circumstance and the lie we're living.

Birthdays are the worst of this kind of memory, because I can never spend them only with you. In our adult lives I think we've had that chance just a handful of times. Number forty wasn't half bad, though, despite the presence of other people.

"Happy birthday, our kid." You handed me a plain brown envelope. I raised an eyebrow, curious to see what you'd come up with on this most infamous of birthdays. I was half expecting a death certificate in my name, and was surprised when a shiny object fell out of the envelope onto the table. I picked it up and saw that it was a ticket, not unlike a gig ticket, but made of what appeared to be sterling silver, and engraved, rather than printed, with words. The first word I saw was my name and I squinted in the dim light to read the ticket.

> _SpaceShipOne_  
_Virgin Galactic_
> 
> _Astronaut: Noel Gallagher_  
_Departure Date: To be announced_  
_Departing From: Spaceport America, Earth_  
_Destination: 110 km above Earth_

  
__  


I was dumbstruck for several seconds, reading and re-reading the words, trying to make them make sense.

"You need some reading glasses?" someone blurted out, making everyone laugh. Their laughter gave me a moment of privacy, a moment to get myself together, and I glanced at you, caught your eye, and electricity passed between us as it has so many times in this life of ours. I looked at the ticket again, and back at you, and I could see it all in your face: how you understood me so well, that you knew what this meant to me, and all the depth of feeling that was behind this gift that I held in my hand.

I leaned in to hug you and you met me halfway, squeezing me as tightly as if you expected me to disappear into the sky at any moment. I squeezed you right back and felt you sneak a kiss onto my neck before we released each other.

"It's perfect," I said softly to you, just as another guest of mine chimed in with, "What is it?"

I looked over at the others and grinned. "It's a ticket for a ride on a spaceship."

"Oh, come on, what is it, really?"

I handed it round and enjoyed the sight of everyone's eyes bugging out as they realised I wasn't having them on.

"You know who else is goin', our kid?"

"Who?"

"William fucking Shatner."

"Captain Kirk?!"

"The man himself," you grinned, "I shoulda got you your own uniform, so you could be Spock." You were just taking the piss now. You knew I thought Star Trek was naff as fuck.

I made a face, then said in a stage whisper to the rest of the table, "I think I'll sell this on eBay," and tipped the ticket back into its envelope as they laughed.

We weren't able to be alone that night, as Sara had a birthday surprise waiting for me when I got back home, but the wait just fuelled the fire. We were both burning with it by the time we could get each other alone. You got us a hotel room in central London. Booked it under a false name, as we usually did when touring, but in this case it was even more important to avoid attention. I showed up two hours after you did to avoid suspicion and I don't think anyone noticed. The staff at these places are all too discreet to allow guests to see they've been recognised, anyway.

Took the lift to the top of the building and you let me in. You clearly spared no expense, even despite the outrageous gift you'd already given me; the crystal chandelier, fancy fucking furniture with animal feet on instead of normal ones, grand piano, and absolutely enormous fruit basket with wine and smoked wild game and probably distilled unicorn tears in, all gave away your budget for the evening. A massive spliff was rolled up on the marble coffee table next to the fruit basket and we took that and the wine into the bedroom, opened all the curtains, and smoked ourselves silly on the balcony as the moon rose orange in the dirty air above London's skyline.

Even after all these years it still sometimes takes some chemical alteration to get me really enjoying making love with you. The taboo is a permanent fixture in my mind, I think. It makes me so angry sometimes that I can come in just minutes to the thought of you when I'm alone, but get you in the room with me and it takes you an hour and a spliff to get me hard for you. When I was high enough to relax into your touch, you pulled me to the massive bed and undressed me, then worshipped me with your body all night until the sun came up. We both got off twice, which was a feat we hadn't managed in many years.

We basked in our own glow as the sky turned gently grey and then yellow with the approaching dawn, sipping the last of the wine and enjoying a snack from the basket before we went to sleep.

“Noel?” you said to me, and I looked over at you, eyebrows raised in question. “Are you 'appy?”

The question took me a little by surprise. I wasn't sure what you meant: tonight, or in general, so I answered for both. “I'm very happy right now,” I said. “You always make me happy, our kid.” Your beautiful smile warmed your face and you gave me one more deep kiss, holding me to you with the greatest tenderness before sending me off to sleep with an 'I love you' whispered in my ear.

When I woke up late that day you were already gone, back home to your wife. A pang of familiar old misery struck my heart seeing the empty pillow next to me and I wallowed in the feeling a good long while before sitting up and noticing you'd left me a note on my bedside table. I opened the folded sheet of hotel note paper to read:

> _Rkid,_  
  
_I love you to the moon and back!_  
  
<3 _Liam_  
  
_P.S. You're the most sexiest man alive!! Happy Birthday_

You may claim that you're not into sweet, sappy stuff—you've been known to call my songs "wimpy" when you think they're too soft, and then _I_ have to sing them—but I know you've got a heart the size of a star.

It shines just as brightly.

_"Let me fly you to the [moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nApdayFAHjA)" _  
_My eyes will always follow you around around the room_  
_Cos you're the only god_  
_that I will ever need_  
_I'm holding on and waiting_  
_for my heart to be [unbroken](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0QMhSLg0t0)_  
_by the sea_

~

**Author's Note:**

> So pleased someone joined me in this rather strange fandom-of-my-heart. I was glad to get the assignment, and I hope this is to your taste. :-) Happy Yuletide! 
> 
> P.S. There is a "secret-ish" Noel/Liam fic archive which you may already be aware of, but if not, I can give you the password.
> 
> P.P.S. To any reader unaware, Liam [really did](http://www.contactmusic.net/liam-gallagher/news/gallaghers-space-gift-to-noel_1032329) buy Noel a ticket to space. ♥


End file.
